


Hannictober Stories

by purplesocrates



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blood Kink, First Kiss, Fluff, Hannictober Challenge, M/M, Major character death - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:10:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 13,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21695563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplesocrates/pseuds/purplesocrates
Summary: A collection of stories based on the prompts from Hannictober.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30
Collections: purplesocrates Hannictober Stories





	1. Apple Picking

#  Apple picking

Hannibal is eating an apple. It’s a large shiny red apple. His teeth are breaking the skin of the apple and sinking into its flesh with a crunch. There is juice forming in drops at the corner of Hannibal’s lips.

Will is fascinated.

Hannibal bares his fangs just before they effortlessly sink in to take a bite. The sound of that crunch as teeth tear away the flesh. The licking of the juice from his lips. That tongue. Those perfectly shaped lips.

Will wants the apple never to end.

Hannibal seems oblivious to Will’s staring. Jack is speaking to him about a case. Will has no idea what either of them is saying. He is fast becoming unaware of anything but how Hannibal is eating that apple.

The apple finished. Will is bereft if it’s absence.

—

Will brings Hannibal an apple. One from the tree in his back yard. He has polished it to a gleam. He feels like a student bringing an apple to a teacher. He hopes Hannibal will eat it in front of Will.

It sits on Hannibal’s desk. Taunting Will.

“Will?”

“Yes.”

“You seem distracted.”

“No.”

“You have been distracted.”

“No, I’m fine.”

“You keep looking at the apple. Was there a particular reason you brought it?”

“No.”

“Will.”

“…”

A sigh. “Will.”

Hannibal gets up and goes to the apple he picks it up and bites into it. Will’s eyes light up.

“You wanted me to eat it.”

Will swallows. “I wanted to watch.”

Hannibal smiles and then silently, with Will’s eager gaze on him, he eats the apple. Teeth are flashing, lips moist, and a wonderful crunch with every bite.

It’s over far too soon. Will stands up and walks over to Hannibal who is perched on the edge of his desk wearing a smug smile. The apple core discarded in the bin.

They are close. Very close. Will longs to taste that apple on Hannibal’s mouth. He can still smell the sweet scent of the apple lingering in the air, mixing with Hannibal’s cologne. It’s intoxicating. Will’s eyes fixate on Hannibal’s lips he wants to lick every last drop of juice from them. Then Hannibal smiles, showing those fangs and Will longs to lick his way along them. He wants to feel them against his skin. He wants Hannibal to take a chunk out of him.

Hannibal watches as Will’s eyes are drawn to his mouth, he watches as Will’s tongue darts out and licks his lips. He hears the moan leave that mouth, unable to control it any longer.

Will’s hand is on the knot of Hannibal’s tie, fingers encircling, he pulls Hannibal towards him so their lips can finally meet. Will licks all along Hannibal’s lips, once done he pushes his tongue inside and runs it against those fangs with a moan. Hannibal tastes like apples and promise.


	2. Black Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the Prompt Black Cat.

#  Black Cat

Will sees a black cat outside Hannibal’s office every time he goes there. At first, it is aloof and looks at Will through hooded eyes before disappearing into the dark. Will isn’t really a cat person, obviously with seven dogs at home, but he is an animal person so finds himself spending a few extra minutes before going in trying to win the cat over.

After about a week the cat is waiting for Will, purring and wrapping itself around his ankles. Will feels triumphant as he kneels down to stroke the cats soft, silky coat. If he is honest, the cat reminds him of Hannibal. It’s sleek, graceful, guarded and open at the same time.

Will thinks about the broken and bloodied Hannibal he saw after Tobias attacked him. He had been thinking about that vulnerable looking Hannibal probably a bit too much the last few days. The black cat purrs again and nuzzles it’s head into Will’s hand.

“It’s not just dogs with you?” The voice says, the voice that narrates Will’s dreams and causes him to wake up sweating and a little confused most mornings.

Will smiles and continues stroking the cat. He looks up at Hannibal who is smiling at him with what could be construed as adoration if Will allowed his brain to go there.

“No. I guess it’s any kind of stray.”

Hannibal laughs and makes his way closer to Will crouching down to join in stroking the cat. “This is no stray. I believe he belongs to Mrs Night. He is a very beloved pet. Do not be fooled.” Hannibal says with a smile, and then their fingers brush against each other in the soft fur, and Will tries to ignore the resulting strange and confusing feeling this arouses.

“Well, I’m not sure he would have fit in with the pack.” Will gives the cat one more stroke and then stands, Hannibal does the same, but the cat continues to weave and rub up against both of their legs. “Sorry, you are probably going to get cat hair on your trousers now.”

Hannibal gives Will a strange look and then says “I’m not as concerned about appearances as you might suspect Will. A little cat hair never hurt anyone.”

Will laughs “for me it will just mingle in with the dog hair so not a big deal! I just meant I don’t want you to ruin your nice suit.”

Hannibal smiles then and brings his hand up to brush a stray hair from Will’s face. Suddenly Will feels like the cat under that delicate touch, he almost purs. Their eyes meet as Hannibal’s hand lingers in Will’s hair and subconsciously Will leans into the touch.

“As I said appearances, though useful, do not concern me as much as you would think.” Hannibal’s voice has gone very soft and low. It’s doing things to Will, his eyes drawn to Hannibal’s lips.

“What are you trying to say?” Will finds his voice has also gone quiet.

“That if you wanted me to kiss you right now, I wouldn’t mind.”

“Do you want to? Kiss me?” Will feels as if he is suddenly floating above himself.

Hannibal smiles and gently brings Will in closer to him, pressing his lips softly against Will’s. “Very much so unless you object.” The shape of those words ticking Will’s lips causes a moan to escape Will’s mouth. Will feels a smile, and then he is devoured in a passionate but slow kiss as the cat continues to weave between their legs.


	3. Bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt 'Bones'.

#  Bones

Will is thinking about bones. How they break, shatter and splinter. How they heal, mesh together, regrow. His bones hurt less now, maybe it’s the heat, the relaxed lifestyle, the slow movement. He rests here both his body and his mind.

Stretching out his legs, he still expects his knees to ache, but they don’t. He moves his shoulder, the one that used to hurt but somehow it doesn’t anymore. He brings a hand up to his jaw - that still creaks, he is satisfied to know this. It’s nice to have a remnant of old pains from new ones.

He is watching Hannibal swim. Well, he is watching the arch of his arms as they cut a swath through the water above the waves. He smiles and shakes his head. He doesn’t know how Hannibal can still enjoy swimming. Then again, Hannibal always was fearless. No not fearless, he knows fear, he feels it, he delights in it.

Will thinks of fear like bones. It splinters and shatters under force but always manages to regrow. Will wonders what his fear will grow into now? He has left everything behind. There is nothing left of him. Fragments of his old self float and dissolve uselessly in a different ocean far away from here. The monster that surfaced from those depths is entirely different.

He thinks of bleached bones as the sun hits him, warming his skin burning away his sins. He is imagining huge whalebones, rib bones like a church lying in the sand as the sun beats down on them. He can almost feel the smoothness of them, the height of them, the stripes of shadow they would cast. Is that what he is now? A carcass of a beast. A monument to something terrible.

Hannibal emerges from the sea like a god. A beautiful, powerful, monstrous god. Will has seen Hannibal’s bones. He knows what lies beneath that god-like flesh. He imagines Hannibal’s bones bleached and laid bare. They would still be beautiful; he is sure. If Will was always sure of one thing, it was of Hannibal’s beauty.

Will watches as Hannibal strides up the beach, he imagines him walking through that whale carcass he conjured. A god walking through his church. He smiles as he thinks about the past, and that conversation they had about church collapses, how Hannibal collected them. Will imagines Hannibal putting fragments of bone in his pocket.

“Hello Will,” Hannibal says, and Will smiles.

“Hello Hannibal,” Will responds and watches as Hannibal dries himself off. Long legs and sculpted arms. Yes, Will thinks, even his skeleton is beautiful.

Hannibal catches him watching. “Where are your thoughts today Will?”

Never a simple phrase like ‘what are you thinking?’ No - words between them are a game, a gift, an exchange.

“I was thinking about bones.”

“Bones?” Hannibal repeats and Will laughs.

Slowly and with care for old aches, that are now just habits, Will stands and walks the few steps from the porch down to the sand where Hannibal stands. He suddenly feels small, diminished somehow with Hannibal standing there with god-like composure and confidence in his own body.

“I was thinking even your skeleton must be beautiful,” Will says as he looks at Hannibal directly in those brown pools he has for eyes. Hannibal tilts his head in that almost alien way of his. It used to unnerve Will now it just makes him smile. “Yes. That even your bones would be perfect.” Will repeats and takes a step closer to Hannibal feeling emboldened by the look of anticipation and hope on Hannibal’s face.

“Will,” Hannibal says.

“Yes.”

“Why were you thinking about my bones?”

“I was thinking about bones of all kinds. How they heal, how they break, how they move. I was watching you swim, and I thought you looked beautiful and then I thought every part of you must be beautiful. I have seen your bones, and they are.”

“As are yours.”

Will smiles and moves closer to Hannibal, he moves a hand to the back of his neck and pulls him closer, so their foreheads are touching.

“You are beautiful Will. You always have been to me. Bones, organs, mind and all.” Hannibal says as he moves his hand to mirror Wills at the back of his neck. “You are the most beautiful creature I have ever known.”

They stand there in the sun, heat warming their skin, breath mingling, bones touching.


	4. Corn Maze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt 'Corn Maze'

#  Corn Maze

The body was in the centre of a corn maze strung up like a scarecrow. Will was staring up at it, he closed his eyes and let the pendulum swing. Images of madness, violence and blood. The usual.

The corn moved in the wind creating a singular rustling sound that made Will think of old horror movies. He was alone in the maze. Jack had cleared the team. Standing in the centre with nothing but the recently dead for company Will sighed. It was cold, but the sky was blue, and the sun was shining. It was a beautiful autumn day apart from the horror. Will wished he was fishing. He closed his eyes again and imagines the corn rustling is a stream.

Will can picture it perfectly the water rushing around him, the gentle swish of the line, the cool breeze, birdsong. He smiles and then in his mind looks to the riverbank, and instead of a tree, he sees the scarecrow made of a dead man, it's face morphs into Hannibal's breaking into a smile.

"Will."

He opens his eyes and turns to see Hannibal standing there dressed immaculately as always. At first, Will thinks he's conjured him, but then he moves towards Will and puts his hand on his shoulder, a grounding touch.

"Sorry I was miles away," Will says, looking at the hand on his shoulder and feeling the weight of it.

"I can see," Hannibal says he removes his hand and looks at the body. "Interesting case."

"I suppose."

There is silence between them as they stare into the face of the dead man. Will is struck by how normal it feels to be stood here on this beautiful day with Hannibal staring at, what most would view as at least macabre, if not downright disturbing. Yet the whole thing seems strangely beautiful. As always Hannibal appears to sense what Will is thinking and slowly and very gently intertwines his fingers with Will's.

Will looks down at Hannibal's hand now in his and clasps it. Hannibal is still looking at the scarecrow, Will smiles and then looks away and at the body in a mirror of Hannibal's gaze. A single crow flies overhead as the corn continues to move and flow like water around them. 

They stand there in the sun, heat warming their skin, breath mingling, bones touching.


	5. Curses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt 'Curses'

# Curses

“Bev thinks she’s cursed,” Will says, perched on the edge of Hannibal’s desk.

“Why?” Hannibal responds with a laugh on his breath. He is pouring wine. Now finished, he walks around to where Will is and hands him a glass.

“Just a run of bad luck, I think. Tests are going wrong, equipment breaking and today her dishwasher broke.” Will had listened to Bev complain about being cursed for most of the morning while Zeller and Jimmy encouraged her feelings.

“I see. Well, I am sure her streak of bad luck will break.”

“I think it’s more about the fact that she hasn’t had a date in a while.”

Hannibal arches an eyebrow at that. He moves to perch next to Will, and they both stare straight ahead. “It’s hard I imagine in your work to find the time.”

“Yeah, you pretty much just end up dating each other,” Will says eyes giving a sidelong glance at Hannibal as he sips his wine and tries, unsuccessfully, to gauge Hannibal’s reaction.

“I take it Bev isn’t interested in anyone she works with.” Hannibal doesn’t show any emotion, but inwardly he is very interested, this is the first time Will has ever brought up dating or relationships. He wonders somewhat hopefully where this conversation might be going.

“No. She doesn’t like to shit where she eats.” Will says this with a grin and sips his wine again, attempting to judge Hannibal’s reaction to this rather vulgar expression.

The reaction is a raised an eyebrow, a slight quirk of lips and a measured sip of his wine.

“Her words, not mine,” Will adds, and Hannibal actually laughs.

“What about you?” Hannibal asks, turning his head to look at Will’s profile. “Do you shit where you eat?”

Will almost expels the wine he has just sipped from his glass. He manages to swallow and then turns his head to look at Hannibal. He has never heard Hannibal swear yet alone use such a vulgar expression. Will smiles.

“Never really had many opportunities.”

“That seems unlikely,” Hannibal responds looking at Will now.

Will meets those hazel eyes. “Why?” Will asks suddenly feeling as if this has shifted from light flirting to something else. Something more important and he feels both emboldened and terrified.

“You are a unique person Will. You must be aware of how others see you?”

Will smirks and laughs “yes as one of my strays waiting for rescue.”

“Only in as much as you long to be rescued.”

“Rescued? You think I long to be rescued? From what?”

Hannibal places his glass down on the desk and stands upright. He moves with elegant efficiency to stand in front of Will. Slowly and carefully, he raises his hand and brushes a curl from Will’s face smiling as he does. Will doesn’t move he is mesmerised.

“From mundanity. From the ordinary. You should be transcendent.” Hannibal’s voice is deep and resonates between the layers of Will’s epidermis. “You are so much more than the sum of your parts Will Graham.”

Will wants to speak. He wants to voice a question. Will wants to back away. He also wants to be pulled in, he wants to be closer to the brightness of Hannibal’s sun. He wants to burn up in its radiance. Hannibal leans in close to Will and takes the glass of wine from him placing it on the desk next to his. He gently nuzzles at Will’s neck with his nose inhaling that unusual combination of cheap aftershave and Will.

Hannibal presses his lips against soft, supple skin. Warm flesh and pulsing veins. He can feel Will’s life underneath his mouth, and he wants a taste. Hannibal nuzzles, licks and kisses his way up the column of Will’s neck until he finds those lips, slightly parted and breathing heavily. Snaking an arm around Will’s waist, he pulls him closer and devours his mouth in a slow, yielding, sensual kiss.


	6. Ghost Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt 'Ghost Hunt'

#  Ghost Hunt

“It’s kinda spooky in here.” Will states as they walk through an old hospital to where a victim has been laid out, a young man with symbols cut into his chest. “It’s supposed to be haunted.”

“Is that why you think the killer left the body here? Hoped it would be blamed on the ghosts or that no one ever came here?” Hannibal looks incongruous in his immaculate suit and overcoat stepping over detritus and avoiding the dripping ceiling.

“Maybe. Lots of room and dark corners to hide in.”

Hannibal smirks “who doesn’t love a dark corner to hide in?”

Will laughs “or hunting ghosts.”

“Is that what we are doing?”

Will stops and realises they are alone and clearly lost “I think we missed a turning somewhere.”

Hannibal also stops and turns to Will “did you lead us to a dark corner?”

Will smiles “not intentionally.”

Hannibal is smirking again and advancing on Will, so he has to take a few steps back hitting the wall. “Really.”

“Hannibal, this is a crime scene.” Will laments as Hannibal lifts his hand and runs his fingers through Will’s hair.

“This is a dark corner. The only dead here are ghosts, and they don’t care what the living do.” Hannibal is so close to Will now he can barely breathe.

Will’s hands snake around Hannibal’s hips grasping them, so their bodies are flush together. Hannibal takes that as all the encouragement he needs and places his hand on the back of Will’s neck and begins to kiss him.

They are soon so passionately making out they don’t realise Jimmy has appeared around the corner and is staring at them. He coughs. He coughs again louder, and Will finally hears him pushing Hannibal off him and going bright red. Hannibal doesn’t seem flustered at all.

“Dead body is this way,” Jimmy says and winks at Will.

“Apologies,” Hannibal says as he makes his way past Jimmy, leaving Will feeling very small and knowing he will never live this down.


	7. Hair Raising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt 'Hair raising'.

# Hair raising

Will has been out in the rain all day. He is soaked. Hair matted to his face. Trouser legs sodden from the bottom almost up to his knees. His shirt and jumper were mostly dry as his coat had protected him. Now he is soaked with sweat from being too cold then too warm in the car.

He arrives at Hannibal’s wet, grumpy and cold again as his trousers feel like ice from being outside for the two minutes it took him to dash from his car to the door. He is a shivering mess, and he feels like he is getting a fever.

Hannibal, however, had anticipated all of this. He has lit the fire in his office, procured some warm towels from his bathroom and even managed to pop home to pick up some cashmere pyjama bottoms for Will to wear if his trousers are wet. There is also a warming brandy waiting.

When Hannibal opens the door to a dejected and wet Will, he smiles and welcomes Will inside. Will sees the fire first and goes to stand straight by it warming his hands.

“Here,” Hannibal says. “Take these, let me have your coat, you go get dried off in the bathroom, and I’ll have a brandy waiting for you.”

Will looks at Hannibal confused as to why he is standing in front of him offering him dry clothes and towels. “Go, Will. I don’t want you getting sick.”

Will is still standing there, staring at the proffered pile of towels and soft clothes. He feels a little ridiculous and a bit rude for not reacting straight away. “Sorry. I … I wasn’t expecting. Thank you.” He manages, removes his coat, takes the pile from Hannibal and slowly walks back out of the door to the bathroom.

Hannibal watches him with a smile, hangs up his coat and then goes to pour two glasses of brandy.

Will returns a few minutes later. Hannibal takes his wet trousers and hangs them on the back of a chair, which he moved closer to the fire so that they can dry. He places Will’s shoes and socks there too. Will sits down on one of the chairs by the fire and takes the glass of brandy Hannibal offers him.

Will’s hair is still wet. He sips his brandy as he absently dries it with one of the towels Hannibal gave him. Hannibal is watching this out of the corner of his eye. They sit in comfortable silence, listening to the cracking of the fire.

Hannibal is smiling almost grinning and seems to be trying not to laugh. This is not a Hannibal Will is used to seeing.

“What’s so funny?” Will asks a little annoyed as he assumes this is about him.

“Nothing,” Hannibal replies while studiously not looking at Will, another unusual behaviour for Hannibal who is always looking at Will.

“Come on, tell me,” Will asks again.

Hannibal, let’s out a small laugh “my apologies; it’s just your hair.” Hannibal turns to look at Will then and smiles as he fully takes in how fluffy and out of control Will’s hair has gotten. It’s now half damp half dry and sticking up at various angles. It makes him look like a little boy. It’s both utterly endearing and amusing at the same time.

Will frowns distinctly unimpressed with Hannibal’s reaction as he looks at Hannibal’s perfectly quaffed do. Hannibal starts to laughs again and Will frowns. “You know as much as I appreciate the dry clothes and brandy I don’t appreciate being mocked.”

Hannibal turns to look at Will suddenly quite serious. “I would never mock you Will I apologise.”

Will smiles then realising he is overreacting. “Sorry it’s been a long day, and not all of us can look as unruffled as you.” Will eventually says as he not so surreptitiously attempts to flatten his hair down.

“I imagine it is well within your wheelhouse to ruffle me,” Hannibal says and sips his brandy.

At first, Will doesn’t entirely register the slightly suggestive tone in which Hannibal said that. Then he does. “Really?”

“Oh, yes. I am quite sure of it.” Hannibal gives him a sideways look and then carries on drinking.

They sit in comfortable but slightly tension-filled silence until they have both finished their drinks. Hannibal stands up to get another and is followed by Will who, before Hannibal knows what’s happening, has pushed Hannibal against the desk and is running his hands through Hannibal’s hair messing it up thoroughly. Will stands back to admire his work with a smile. “Better,” Will says and laughs.

Will expects Hannibal to react hopefully by laughing, perhaps cursing at him, maybe running to the bathroom to fix his hair. He does none of those things. Instead, he puts his hand around Will’s hip, pulls him closer and kisses him.

It is only after quite some time thought returns to Will as he realises he is making out with his psychiatrist on his desk. They break apart, and Will smiles because Hannibal does now look entirely ruffled, and Will suddenly has a great desire to see just how much more ruffled he can get.


	8. Hard Cider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt 'Hard Cider'

#  Hard Cider (or cider, as we call it here in the UK. Non-alcoholic cider, is just apple juice)

“Cider? Really Will?” Bev says as Will hands her a bottle.

“It seemed ... festive.” Will says hopefully.

“Festive?”

“Yeah, you know autumnal. For the season.”

Bev looks unconvinced but brings the bottle to her lips and takes a large sip. She swallows, waits, nods, looks at the bottle noticing the high alcohol content and smiles. “Not bad.”

Most of the bottles later Bev and Will are sprawled across the same couch in Will’s lounge listening to music and giggling.

“Okay, okay, but come on there must be someone you like?” Bev asks for the hundredth time that evening. The more cider consumed, the more persistent she becomes. “What about Alana?”

Will covers his head with his hand and groans. “No. Too complicated.”

Bev laughs and is secretly pleased with this news. Maybe she’s got a chance with Alana after all. “Well, who then?”

“Does there have to be someone?” Will wishes she would drop this subject, but she seems singularly determined.

“Yes, Will. You are a lonely, sad hermit who needs to get laid.” Bev winces as she didn’t mean for it to come out that harsh. “I mean, you are a catch and shouldn’t be alone.”

Will raises his eyebrow at her, and she shoots him an apologetic look. He smiles and laughs. “What about you?”

“No, we are talking about you Will Graham when was the last time you got laid?”

It’s the cider that gives him away. The lag in his brain from the memory that question conjures to the expression his face makes. The memory is a glorious one. Discarded expensive wool suit revealing soft chest hair, lithe legs, powerful arms, a deep groove in his back and well… a spectacular…well… oh and hands, hands that went everywhere. Teeth too, a biting and sucking mouth. Yes, oh, god, yes.

“Will?” Bev is looking at Will’s expression, something akin to a grin and glazed eyes. “Oh my god Will. Tell me. Tell me now.” Bev sits up from her end of the sofa and grabs one of Will’s legs squeezing it.

“Ow! Tell you what?!” Even to Will that is unconvincing.

“Who is it? Who has got you looking like the cat that got all the cream.”

Will smiles again and thinks of a cat, a panther, an agile, elegant beast covering his body with ease, sinking those teeth into his neck. The lovebite still feels warm on the curve of his neck.

Bev sits up, eyes him and then lunges straddling him and managing to lower the collar of his shirt to reveal the marks. “What the hell?! Tell me! Tell me now!”

Will laughs “get off me, and I will.”

Bev gives him a withering look but gets off him slinking down to sit on the floor, her back against the couch.

“Okay, so, yes I met someone,” Will says, cryptically the smile on his face seemingly permanent now.

Bev is looking at him, and suddenly it all comes together in a flash in her mind. “You didn’t? With? No?”

Will’s grin gets wider, and he nods.

“Wow. I mean. Wow. He’s well… he’s…wow.” She can see it now. The lingering glances. The time Will forgot his appointment and Hannibal drove to find him. The leaning - he leans in a lot. She can see how it would work between them too, opposites but the same, mirrors of each other. “I assume he is…” she wants to say spectacular but stops herself “good.”

“You have no idea.”


	9. Jack O' Lantern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt 'Jack O' Lantern'.

# Jack O' Lantern

"What are you doing?" Hannibal says as he opens his door to find Will placing the top back on the jack o lantern, having just put the candle inside. He had noticed there was someone outside, someone trying to be very quiet, he had decided to go and investigate.

He had not been expecting to find Will putting a jack o lantern on his steps.

"Oh. You weren't supposed to see." Will says straightening up and awkwardly running a hand through his hair. "I do it every year for my … well, you know the people I work with … Bev, Jimmy, Brian and well… I think of you as… well… you weren't supposed to see."

Hannibal looks at the pumpkin, then at Will and smiles. He takes a few steps down so he can stand next to Will and see the carved face now flickering at them.

"I gave you the best one," Will says watching Hannibal as he elegantly descends towards him.

"Thank you," Hannibal says and looks at the surprisingly well-carved face staring back at him. "It's excellent."

"I'm sorry you probably don't want this on your front doorstep not aesthetically pleasing. I can take it." Will stammers and makes as if to take the pumpkin away.

Hannibal presses a hand softly to Will's arm to stop him "no, please it's a gift, a gift from you. I would like it to stay." It is then Hannibal notices the small bundle wrapped in red and white gingham next to the pumpkin. "What is that?"

"Oh. I mean you can… you don't have to… it's not up to your standards. I'm sure…" Will is adamantly staring at the ground now. "It's just some pie and some cookies. I always make them this time of year too."

Hannibal smiles and bends down to pick up the bundle. He can smell the pumpkin.

"Will you come in? Share these with me." Hannibal says as he turns to Will, who is finally facing him.

"I'm not sure I could take the pressure of actually being witness to you eating my food," Will says and runs his hand through his hair again.

Hannibal shifts the bundle, so he is holding it with one arm, putting a hand on Will's shoulder and squeezing slightly. "Don't be ridiculous please come in. Let me make us some coffee."

Will smiles then "I do love your coffee" he whispers and Hannibal laughs.

"Then please come in," Hannibal says and makes his way up the steps again towards his door. Will follows him just behind. Hannibal stops as they get to the door and turns around facing Will.

"Will?"

"Yes," Will says suddenly aware of their very close proximity.

"Thank you," Hannibal says and smiles.

"No problem. I do it for all my … "Will pauses and looks up at Hannibal and says with hope on his lips "friends."

"I am glad you consider us friends Will," Hannibal says and turns he is stopped by Will's hand grasping his and pulling him back so that they almost bump into each other.

"Do you? Consider us …" that pause again, and Hannibal finds he is unutterably fascinated by what that pause means. "Friends?"

"Of course Will," Hannibal responds and notices the awkward tension in Will's shoulders and that Will has not let go of his hand. Hannibal then gently pulls Will inside his house, hands still entwined, he closes the door behind them.

Hannibal places the bundle carefully on the side table and then faces Will still holding his hand. He very slowly presses Will against the door, his other hand reaching up to run through those brown curls. Hannibal leans his body flush against Will's. One hand on the back of Will's neck and the other squeezing his hand Hannibal presses his lips against Will's who instantly moans. The kiss deepens quickly and Will's free hand snakes it's way around Hannibal's waist. Tongues scrape against tongues and teeth clash with the passion at which they are devouring each other.

Hannibal needs to breathe, so he breaks the kiss. He looks at Will who is, quite frankly, wonderfully debauched pressed up against the door, lips kiss swollen, and skin flushed.

"I've wanted to do that for quite some time," Hannibal says and rubs his thumb in a lazy circle on the back of Will's neck who hums approvingly.

"Really?" Will says meeting Hannibal's meandering gaze which seems to be intent on taking in every detail of Will's face.

"Yes," Hannibal responds, eyes are finally resting to meet Will's.

Will smiles and Hannibal almost moans at the wonderful sight of that smile "what took you so long?" Will laughs.

"Oh, something about you not finding me interesting." Hannibal jokes and enjoys the blush that creeps it's way up to Will's cheeks.

"We'd only just met!" Will says.

Hannibal leans in and kisses Will chastely on the lips and then says "Will, I have wanted to kiss you from the moment I met you."

Will grins "Doctor, that's not very professional."

"Mmm, what can I say? My methods can be construed as unconventional."

"Do you kiss all your patients?"

"No, just the ones I find sneaking around my door, leaving me presents."

Will laughs, and Hannibal wants to taste that sound. He kisses Will almost reverently, the pace much slower than the first time but no less passionate as Hannibal swallows every moan and flick of Will's tongue.

They part again, and Will smiles "I only came in for coffee."

Hannibal smiles and kisses him again "then coffee you shall have." Hannibal removes his body from Will and goes to walk away, Will pulls their still clasped hands and brings him back.

"I think I've found something better," Will says and brings his other hand to the back of Hannibal's neck pulling him in for another kiss.

"You have no idea."


	10. Leaf Piles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt 'Leaf Piles'.

#  Leaf Piles

Will is watching Buster leap through the pile of leaves he has raked up outside his house. He laughs as the tiny dog disappears and then reappears leaping and jumping through the leaves. It’s cold, and as Will laughs, he can see his breath frosting in a cloud. The rest of the pack are mingling around smelling and sniffing, but it is only Buster who has seemingly abandoned all decorum, making a mess of all of Will’s work. Will should be mad, but he isn’t. The sight is just too amusing.

Will’s phone rings and he takes it out of his pocket, looks at the name on the display, he smiles. He still has laughter in his voice when he answers, out of breath and joyful. “Hello, Doctor Lecter.”

“Will. Are you alright?” Hannibal is not sure he has ever heard this tone in Will’s voice before.

“Yes sorry just watching Buster run through the pile of leaves I just raked up. It’s entertaining.” Will says breathless and laughs again as Buster nose dives into another pile and disappears.

“Buster?” Hannibal asks, he assumes this is one of Will’s dogs, but he has no idea which one.

“The small brown and white terrier.” Will clarifies and laughs again.

Hannibal wants to bottle that sound. “I see.”

“Sorry I guess you have to be here,” Will says and laughs again.

“Indeed,” Hannibal says. “Was that an invitation?”

A pause. No laughter. Hannibal wonders if he has overstepped. Then; “would you like it to be?” The breathlessness is still there, but no laughter.

Hannibal pauses this time. He wasn’t expecting that. “I always enjoy your company, Will.”

That laugh again and to be the cause of it, Hannibal suddenly feels quite breathless. “I have no idea why.”

“Do you not?” Hannibal enquires, Will never sees himself for who he is or who he could be.

“No. I don’t.” Will laughs again.

“You should,” Hannibal says enjoying this relaxed version of Will.

“Why don’t you tell me then?” Will says, and Hannibal can hear the smile on his face.

“You are a singular man. Unique. You should know that.” Hannibal says thinking of all the ways Will is one of the most unique people he has ever known.

“To hear that from you of all people is amazing to me.”

“What do you mean?” Hannibal tends to think Will pays him little or no attention and certainly doesn’t spare him much thought.

“You are a man of sophisticated tastes. I mean the way you dress, the way you are, the gourmet cooking, the opera. What could you possibly see in me?” Will says this so earnestly it makes Hannibal’s heart hurt.

“You are most certainly a sophisticated taste,” Hannibal says, and Will can practically hear him lick his lips.

That laugh again “am I now?”

“I would imagine so. Of course, this based on conjecture, I would need a more thorough detailed analysis to confirm.”

A pause. “Doctor Lecter are you flirting with me?”

“Would you like it if I did?” Hannibal says with a smile and a widening slither of hope.

Will laughs again “you are incorrigible Doctor.”

“I always try to be.”

“What were you calling me about?” Will says, and Hannibal frowns at the change in subject.

“I honestly can’t recall now.” Hannibal laughs.

“Sorry to have distracted you, Doctor. Although at least this way you can call me again when you remember.” Will says, and Hannibal grins.

“Am I to assume you would like that?”

Will smiles and laughs “, or you could just stay on the line until you remember.”


	11. Moonlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt 'Moonlight'.

#  Moonlight

Hannibal watches the Moonlight on the water. The waves are lapping gently on the beach. He can smell salt and the memory of blood on the air. Lifting his hand, he looks at them imagining warm, black blood dripping from his fingertips. He smiles.

He can’t sleep. His body is aching, and his mind is too alive with thoughts chasing around his head. It’s still out here, nothing but a slight breeze to ruffle his hair and wrinkle the fabric of his shirt. Inside he is frenetic energy as his soul burns with electricity. He vibrates.

As always he smells Will before he sees him. Inhaling a deep breath of sea air, remembered scents and Will. Hannibal’s voice is cracked at the edges when he speaks. All his insides are threatening to spill out. “Did I wake you?”

Will sits down beside him he hands Hannibal one of the tumblers of whiskey he is holding. Hannibal takes it with gratitude.

“No. I was awake.” Will says and watches Hannibal sip his drink. “I find it hard to sleep when the moon is this bright.” 

Hannibal turns his head to look at Will. He sees the scar on Will’s cheek glistening slightly.

“Too many memories.”

Will turns to meet Hannibal’s gaze and smiles.

They have been healing, existing, just being with each other. They don’t talk much, just lingering glances and small touches. Hannibal misses their conversations.

Will drains the rest of his drink, puts the glass down on the porch floor by his chair. He slowly stands up and moves in front of Hannibal who watches him with interest. Will takes Hannibal’s glass from him drains the rest of it, Hannibal arches an eyebrow at that. Will puts the glass on the chair where he had been sitting. Slowly and with care for both their injuries Will lowers himself onto Hannibal’s lap, legs straddling his hips. Will brings a hand up to card through Hannibal’s hair as Hannibal’s hands rest softly on the small of Will’s back, feeling the warmth of him under his thin t-shirt. Will lowers his head and gently catches Hannibal’s lips in a kiss. Hannibal moans and pulls Will closer to him enjoying the weight of him in his lap.

Will bites Hannibal’s lip drawing blood he breaks the kiss. Will drags a finger across the cut and looks at the droplet of blood. Hannibal sucks on his lower lip eyes, never leaving Will. Will looks at the blood on his finger and smiles “it still looks black in the moonlight.” He says and sucks the blood off before Hannibal places his hand on the back of Will’s neck bringing him closer.

“Happy Anniversary.” He says before devouring Will, biting down on his lip, so their blood mingles once more in the Moonlight.


	12. Possession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt 'Possession'.

#  Possession

🚨Warning for angsty Will death. 🚨

Hannibal misses Will. He misses him as if there is a hole inside of himself, a deep chasm of regret and guilt. He survived. Will didn’t. He breathes. Will doesn’t. He weeps. Will remains silent, lost in an ocean that Hannibal wishes had consumed him too.

It is slow at first. Like a gradual awakening, a birth of consciousness, a memory rising. When Hannibal wakes, he feels as if he is somehow just missing a thought, an echo which reverberates against the walls of his skull in a voice he would recognise anywhere.

He assumes he is losing his mind to grief. That somehow he is being consumed from the inside by his madness. Then slowly, as if from a great distance, he hears his name and a question. A singularly terrifying question; Hannibal, where am I?

The question and the voice haunt Hannibal day and night. It gets louder and louder, more desperate, more pleading until Hannibal answers back accepting that he has finally gone insane. Will? He thinks rather than says.

There is an achingly long pause, a chasm of longing, a pit of despair. Why can’t I see you?

“It can’t be. It can’t be you.”

Why? Hannibal why do you sound so strange? Why won’t you tell me where we are?

A stretch of silence so loud it may as well be a scream. Then “you died Will. You died.”

But… that… no…we fought the dragon and then… then we… … fell. We fell. I remember we fell.

Hannibal is crying now, uncontrollable sobbing that wracks his body as the memory of that cold embrace freezes his arteries once more. “You died, Will and now I am insane.”

No Hannibal no, you aren’t. I’m here, I know I’m here, but I can’t see myself. I can’t see you, but I can feel you. It’s like you are stood right next to me. Your thoughts are right next to mine. Will sounds excited as if he has solved the unsolvable problem of them. They are now finally conjoined and blurred together, and it feels beautiful.

“I am possessed by you.” Hannibal’s sobs’ calm somewhat as he gets up, walks to a mirror and looks at his reflection. He looks into his own eyes and gasps when he sees Will’s eyes staring back out at him. “We are conjoined.” He says and lets the cold embrace of his insanity wash away his grief.

“Yes.” They both say and smile.

Days pass and Hannibal feels whole, more whole than he has ever felt in his life. Having Will’s voice, his laughter echoing around his head is so strangely fitting it feels inevitable. They were always going to end up this way.

“I wished I’d kissed you,” Hannibal says one night as he drifts off to sleep, the sound of Will’s steady breathing a comforting rhythm in his mind.

When?

Hannibal smiles and thinks of all the times he wished he had. In his office, out in the field with Will rosy-cheeked and cold, at his house pushing onto the dining room table spilling the wine and the food.

Will chuckles. I know what you are thinking!

“I want you to know. I wish I had. Do you wish I had?”

Close your eyes. Will’s voice a gentle, inviting whisper. Hannibal smiles and does as he is told. Clear your mind and let me take over.

Hannibal clears his mind relinquishing control to Will. He feels it at first as if Will is floating just above him, millimetres above on a small cushion of air. He can feel the almost-weight of him against his own body. Then he can see Will in his mind’s eye like a mirror. His face just above his own, brown curls against pale skin, sweet pink lips in the shape of a smile. A brush of a hand against his cheek and then the smallest of ghostly pressures cold but oh so wonderful against his lips.

Hannibal keeps kissing Will in his mind.


	13. Pumpkin Spice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt 'Pumpkin Spice'.

#  Pumpkin Spice

Hannibal can smell it when he walks into the house. It’s unusual because Will very rarely cooks. The kitchen being, of course, Hannibal’s domain. The scent is sweet, almost sickly, with a hint of spice. He removes his coat and hangs it up before making his way to the kitchen, greeted with the sight of Will barefoot. Sleeves rolled up with a dusting of flour in his hair. Hannibal smiles.

“Will.”

He turns and looks at Hannibal “hey.”

“What are you doing?” Hannibal asks as he surveys the kitchen. He sees the opened cans and a plastic container with a nozzle. 

“Making pumpkin pie,” Will says as he places the visible shop bought pastry case in the pie dish.

Hannibal moves to the counter and picks up one of the cans of what appears to be pumpkin. “From a can?”

Will sighs and looks at Hannibal. “Yes, from a can. Also, with cream from a can.” Will says this in a mock scandalous tone.

“I would have made you one with actual pumpkin.” Hannibal places the canned pumpkin back on the counter.

“I know. It wouldn’t taste the same, though.” Will picks up the spray can of cream and lifts the nozzle to his mouth, keeping his eyes on Hannibal.

“Will please do not do…that,” Hannibal says eyes widening at the sight of Will about to spray cream directly into his own mouth.

Will grins and then presses down on the nozzle and fills his mouth with cream. He moans at the sweet taste and swallows.

Hannibal watches this with a combination of rapture and distaste.

Will laughs and then stops, looks at Hannibal, a smirk flickers across Will’s face as an idea comes into his mind. He walks around the counter, still holding the can of cream. Will then, what Hannibal thinks of as advances, closer to Hannibal.

Hannibal doesn’t move. He watches Will get closer. Will holds the can upside down with nozzle close to Hannibal’s mouth. Hannibal arches an eyebrow, and Will does the same in challenge his finger brushes up against Hannibal’s lips.

“Open up,” Will says as he feels the tension between them change. They have been living together now for a few months, and nothing has happened between them. Will hadn’t even been thinking about anything happening between them they were what they were. Conjoined.

He wanted to make this pie because it was October and his Dad always made it for him. Now he is standing here trying to coax Hannibal into opening his mouth so he can spray whip cream into it for a joke. Yes, this is a joke. A silly game.

Hannibal opens his mouth, and Will can feel Hannibal’s breath on his fingers. He presses down on the nozzle, and the whipped cream fills Hannibal’s mouth. Will nervously laughs as Hannibal closes his mouth and swallows the cream. Will lowers the can and puts it on the counter. He looks back up at Hannibal who hasn’t moved and notices a small amount of cream is still clinging to the curl of Hannibal’s upper lip in the corner. Will swallows, and before he can stop himself, he reaches out with his finger and swipes it away and then licks his finger. Hannibal watches all of this with great interest.

“Not bad, eh?” Will says.

Hannibal smiles “perhaps a bit sweet for my tastes.”

Will raises an eyebrow again and laughs nervously.

As Will begins to move away Hannibal grabs his hand, stopping him, he pulls Will closer to him reaches down with one hand and cups Will’s face. He places his lips against Will’s and kisses him. Will moans and before he can stop himself Will’s hand moves to the back of Hannibal’s neck and pulls him even closer deepening the kiss. They both moan into each other’s mouths tasting whip cream. They part and Hannibal smiles “who knew whip cream could taste so good?”

“Wait till you taste the pie.” Will laughs and kisses Hannibal again.


	14. Ritual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt 'Ritual'.

#  Ritual

Hannibal has many rituals. Will is finding this out living with him. Careful not to imply or explicitly describe them as anything approaching OCD. The responding murderous twitch on Hannibal’s face, after the lightest merest suggestion, made it clear Will’s opinion on this matter was not well received.

Will was by now finding himself fascinated by them all, cataloguing them in his mind. When he found a new one, he had trouble concealing his unfettered glee at the discovery.

There was, of course, the more obvious ones, the ones he’d witnessed many times in Baltimore. The ritual of opening wine; the aerating, decanting, smelling and tasting. The ritual of food; the loving care of ingredients, the careful preparation, the skilful cooking and, of course, the delicate and exacting plating.

There were, of course, the assumed rituals which Will hadn’t witnessed but was not surprised by. The ritual of dressing, the choosing of a particular suit, the choice of tie, shirt and shoes. All matching and deliberate to give off a chosen image. A particular effect.

The way Hannibal always greeted him with the same phrase. Delivered in the same tone laden with meaning. Two words had never meant more to Will than Hannibal’s “hello Will.”

What Will hadn’t counted on were the small rituals. The little exactitudes that made up the very exacting man. The way that at precisely 7 pm sharp every evening Hannibal would find Will, wherever he was in their house, offer him a glass of wine and ask after him. As if they were still having ‘conversations’.

The way every night when Will went up to his bed (and he was yet to figure out when Hannibal did this because he never caught him) Will would find the corner of his bedsheet turned down inviting him to sleep.

Hannibal would rise every day, weekend or no, at 6 am. He would go swimming in the ocean (something else Will found ridiculous) for precisely one hour. Will would watch Hannibal dry his hair with a towel from his bedroom window, smiling at the way it stuck up at different angles (and absolutely not looking at his wet glistening chest hair).

Smaller things too, when he finished a book, he would take a sip of wine and spend a certain amount of time in contemplation. Will was sure it was the same amount of time although he hadn’t managed to time it. The way Hannibal washed the long stem wine glasses by hand spending, again, what seemed like the same amount of time on each one. Then lovingly rinsing them off, drying and holding them up to the light to check for spots.

Will would think about the way Hannibal had bandaged and cleaned his hands after Randall Tier. With a barely concealed reverence. The way Hannibal’s fingers fluttered lovingly over his stitches post-fall. He missed those wound checks now they were all healed. He missed the look of concentration in Hannibal’s eyes as if Will was the only person in the world.

Once the dam between them broke, and Hannibal kissed Will in the kitchen one innocuous morning. Hannibal seemingly composed before the sight of Will all morning breath and messy hair, barefoot and crinkled sent him over the edge. The ritual of their growing intimacy became an obsession for both of them.

There was a spot on Will’s shoulder that Hannibal would never fail to kiss. Every morning when they woke now, entangled legs, in the same bed. Will would feel those surprisingly soft and supple lips against his skin, pressing and brushing. It made Will moan, and the shape of Hannibal’s smile was felt in the same spot every morning.

Now they had different rituals. The rituals of being together. Truly together. Hannibal was no longer a separate planet. They shared the same orbit. They would stay in bed together in the mornings, go to bed together in the evenings. Hannibal pressed up against Will’s back, lips pliant and warm.

There were hand too, hands brushing up Will’s sides and back down again, a warm caress that made Will hum. That kiss to his shoulder, though, the same spot that got Will every time. If he lived for anything, it was that kiss. He didn’t know how he had survived all these years without it. 

All he knew was that now that he had it, he never wanted to let it go.


	15. Scarf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt 'Scarf'

Scarf

Hannibal left his scarf behind at Jack’s office. Will offered to return it at his appointment. Simple enough. It is cold outside today, and Will doesn’t own a scarf. He isn’t a scarf person. So when he wraps the ridiculously soft cashmere around his neck, and the smell of Hannibal’s cologne hits him, he can’t help but purr a hum of approval.

Will forgets about it as he arrives at Hannibal’s office after an angry phone call from Jack leaves him distracted. When Hannibal opens the door to see Will pacing up and down the waiting room wearing his scarf, all the air leaves his lungs in one go. The only indication of Hannibal’s internal meltdown is the way he looks down and then up at Will before he says “hello Will.”

“Doctor Lecter,” Will says and makes way past him and into his office.

Will does not seem to register the pause in Hannibal’s movement or the skip in Hannibal’s heartbeat as Will walks past him, the combination of their scents wafting up to Hannibal’s nose causing a near-complete olfactory meltdown of Hannibal’s senses.

Hannibal manages to get himself together and closes the door taking a deep breath to reinflate his lungs. He turns around and faces Will.

Will, who is currently removing his coat, remembering the scarf he pulls it off his neck in one swift motion, the fabric brushing against the skin of Will’s neck. He then awkwardly holds it out to Hannibal as if it is not, now, a sacred almost reverential offering. But just a scarf.

Hannibal is aware that he should be moving. He should be walking towards Will and taking the scarf. Instead, glued to the spot, unable to move. His eyes fixed on the scarf Will holds out to him as an offering.

“Sorry. I… it was cold…so… I hope you don’t mind.” Will stammers, misreading Hannibal’s inner turmoil for upset over him wearing the scarf.

Hannibal coughs and comes back to himself. “My apologies I have no problem with you borrowing it. Thank you for returning it.” Hannibal moves smoothly towards Will and takes the scarf from him. It takes every ounce of Hannibal’s considerable self-control to not bring it up to his nose and inhale their combined scents.

Instead, he takes the scarf and carefully places it on his desk. Will watches him as he does this. They both look at the scarf for a moment, and Will absently rubs his neck, missing the warmth from the soft fabric. Hannibal looks at Will whose skin is still flushed from the scarf and his fingers twitch. Will feels Hannibal’s eyes on his neck and looks at the barely concealed look of lust that has crept onto Hannibal’s face. Will smiles and then very deliberately rubs his neck, bending his head one way then the other. Hannibal licks his lips, and Will grins.

Moving towards the desk and the scarf, Will runs his finger along the soft fabric, then as innocently as he can looks up at Hannibal and says “it’s very soft. I assume it’s cashmere.”

Hannibal is still staring at Will’s neck, his eyes have darkened, and there is a sheen appearing on his forehead. Will has never seen Hannibal so distressed, and he finds he quite likes it. Will then perches himself on the edge of Hannibal’s desk, bracing himself he leans his head back, baring his neck.

Time stills for Hannibal as he witnesses this performance. He has lost all sense of himself, and all he can do is stare at Will and his long, beautifully flushed neck.

“Will.” Hannibal manages, his voice deeper sounding than Will has heard it before. “What are you doing?”

Will meets Hannibal’s hungry eyes and bends his neck to the side and says “nothing, absolutely nothing.” Then he rubs his neck again with his hand, and Hannibal moans.

Much faster than Will could have imagined, yet with his usual trademark grace, Hannibal is on him. Surprisingly warm lips are pressing up against the pale but flushed skin of Will’s neck. It is Will’s turn to moan. Then there is a flick of a tongue and a slight sucking and then oh god Hannibal’s teeth gain purchase on Will’s flesh.

The gasp of escaped air which leaves Will’s lips as he grips the edge of the desk is felt by Hannibal as well as heard. Hannibal bites down harder and sucks at the delicate skin imagining the deep purple-red mark he will leave. Hannibal is beginning to make his way lower licking, biting and kissing the soft, pale skin. His hands make their way to the back of Will’s neck grasping at his hair and gently brushing against his skin.

Will leans back further another wanton moan leaves his lips, and Hannibal smiles moving his hands now to the front of Will’s shirt, he undoes a few of the buttons and smooths the palm of his hand under the shirt, pushing it aside so he can seek a larger expanse of skin.

Will feels those surgeons hands on his chest, exploring and skirting just above his nipples, he breathes out Hannibal’s name in a way that Hannibal has only dreamt about. Placing a kiss to Will’s lower neck Hannibal then looks up at Will who is smiling. Will removes one of his hands from the desk and brings it to Hannibal’s tie, his fingers grasp around the pristine knot, pulling Hannibal towards him in a pressing and desperate kiss.


	16. Scary Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt 'scary stories'.

# Scary Stories

Will is listening to the science team tell each other ghost stories. None of which are very good. He sighs and thinks surely they get enough of scary at work. Will wishes he was immune to scary, but his nightmares make sure that is not the case.

By the time he gets to Hannibal’s, he is exhausted and even more grumpy than usual. The banter of the science team putting him in a bad mood. Hannibal opens the door with his usual greeting of “hello Will” beckoning him inside to sit by the fire.

Hannibal pours him a glass of wine which he gratefully accepts. Once they are both seated watching the flames crackle. He finally feels the ghost of a smile.

“How are you?” Hannibal asks his soft, comforting voice floats over Will, and he feels another level of warmth.

“Better now.”

“What was wrong?”

“I think other people’s amusement sometimes annoys me.”

Hannibal releases a small chuckle, and Will can feel his body relaxing at the sound of it. 

“How so?”

“Bev, Brian and Jimmy were telling scary stories in the lab today. I just thought we get enough of that in our real lives.”

“Yes, I suppose you do. Stories can be our way of putting those horrors we have witnessed into perspective, a way of dealing with our monsters.”

Will thinks he could listen to Hannibal tell him a story, that soothing voice, lilting accent.

“Don’t leave me, Will, where are your thoughts?” Hannibal says, and Will feels the intensity of his eyes on him almost as warm as the fire.

“Sorry. I thought that you would make a good storyteller with your voice.”

Hannibal smiles “thank you.”

There is silence once more, and Will finds he longs for it to be filled. 

“Tell me a story.” Will eventually says, his voice a quiet plea.

Hannibal laughs gently but begins. His voice lulls Will into a dream world as his eyes, unfocused, staring into the fire. Hannibal tells Will about a monster hiding in plain sight. No one knew who he was. No one could see him. They would feel him, the remnants of his violence, the blood he spilt seeping into the ground, but no one could catch him. No one could understand him.

Then one day, a particularly skilled hunter tracked the monster to his lair. This hunter could see the monster. He could feel the monsters heat. He understood the way the monster thought. So he found him and saw him in all his glory. Slathering teeth, thick fur matted with blood, claws that could rip flesh.

The hunter recognised the beauty of the monster. His singularity. His violence. The hunter found that he wavered, unable to put an end to such a wondrous beast. He could see part of himself reflected in its eyes, hear a shared song between them.

The beast, however, was still a beast and so raised his claws and struck at the hunter. Blood and flesh tore from the hunter as he lay dying on the floor of the cave. He looked up at the beast and found solace in his eyes. His final blood-soaked words floated up to the beast like a gentle kiss “it’s beautiful.”

Will smiles “good story.”


	17. Slasher Films

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt 'Slasher Films'.

#  Slasher films

Warning for blood kink. Also, 🚨neck porn🚨because I can’t help myself.

The woman is heading for the basement stairs. She opens the predictably creaky door and tries the inevitably broken light switch. Shining the flickering torch beam down the wooden steps, she tightens her grip on the small axe she managed to grab from the shed earlier. She whispers “not this time you bastard” as she descends. She takes each step carefully and slowly, eyes straining in the darkness, the beam from the torch is spluttering, and obviously, it goes out as she is about halfway down. It’s then she feels the tight, strong pressure of fingers wrapped around her ankle, a swift pull, rushing air and she is gone.

Bev screams and Will laughs. “How does this scare you?” Will asks incredulously as he sips from his beer.

“Where is your sense of fun?! You have to get in the mood.” Bev says from behind a cushion.

“You realise we deal with real murder. Every day.”

Bev rolls her eyes “shh this is the good bit. Completely unrealistic in terms of blood splatter but awesome.”

Will watches as an impressive arterial arch is released and a jet stream of blood floods the room splattering across the walls.

“Impressive,” Will says and drinks more beer.

Eventually, the heroine escapes the shackles of her tormentor and relieves him of a limb (Will is sure that will make an aesthetically pleasing villain for the sequel, he imagines the sound of a dragging wooden leg). He turns off the film “next time I pick” he says, but Bev is already fast asleep. He stands up, puts a blanket over her, kisses her gently on the forehead and lets himself out.

—

The next night he has dinner with Hannibal, complete opposite experience to the previous evening of take-out food, beer and movies he shared with Bev. Will can’t deny the appeal of Hannibal’s cooking though. Even with all the pageantry (he likes all the fuss and detail Hannibal goes too, but he would never admit that).

They sit at the dining room table, and Will hums his approval of whatever he has just put in his mouth (he has learnt not to ask - ruins the surprise).

Hannibal nods in thanks “what did you do last night with Miss Katz?”

“Watched a terrible horror movie, had a dinner you would entirely disapprove of, she fell asleep on the sofa, and I went home.”

Hannibal as always takes this in, mulls it over like it’s the first sip of wine from a just-opened bottle. 

“I didn’t think of you as one for horror.”

Will smiles “me, not so much, but Bev is a fan. It was her turn to choose the movie.”

“Your friendship with her seems to be deepening. It’s good for you to have connections.”

Will wonders at the tone in which Hannibal says that. Almost as if he is jealous. “I guess. We get on. As you say, it’s good for me to have these connections.”

“Indeed.”

Silence then, and Will can’t help himself “are you jealous?”

Hannibal is momentarily taken aback, his slipped mask quickly replaced with a smirk though. “How would you feel if I were?”

Will smiles “complimented.”

The tension between them shifts and they both enjoy the flirtation. Hannibal raises his glass to Will, who mirrors the gesture. They talk about how Will’s case is going, and Hannibal has a rather endearing story about a patient which makes Will laugh.

After dinner Will helps Hannibal clear the plates, following him into the kitchen. Will suddenly laughs as a thought occurs to him upon seeing the knife block.

“Something amusing?” Hannibal asks, turning to face Will.

“I just thought this kitchen and these knives” Will picks one out of the block “would make a great location for a horror movie.” Will is looking at the knife as it glints in the light. “These knives look deadly.”

Hannibal makes his way over to Will and stands very close. He takes the knife away from Will and holds it up to him with a smile. “They are, plus I keep them very sharp. You need minimal pressure to pierce the skin.”

“Whose skin are we talking about?” Will says his voice a fervent whisper. Hannibal is too close, and that knife in his surgeons' hands is too distracting. Hannibal very slowly moves his other hand and places a finger underneath Will’s chin gently tilting it up, Will’s neck bared.

Will feels a shiver of anticipation and arousal as Hannibal leans in closer and presses the knife against the delicate skin of Will’s throat. Will doesn’t move or breath as he feels the cold blade of that knife against his neck. His eyes dart to Hannibal, who meets Will’s gaze and then licks his lips. Hannibal presses the tip of the blade, so a tiny bead of blood is released. Will moans but not from pain and Hannibal removes the knife and leans into Will’s neck, his tongue darts out and licks up the blood. Then there are lips, a brush of a kiss, teeth dragging and the gentle pressure of a bite. Hannibal is sucking at the skin now. Will can feel his tendons taught and hot beneath Hannibal’s teeth. Will breathes out Hannibal’s name in a whisper. Hannibal drops the knife, letting it noisily clatter to the floor. Neither of them hears.


	18. Transformation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt 'Transformation'.

Transformation

Will is looking at his reflection in the mirror. He is not sure he recognises himself anymore. He looks good. Maybe, he hopes, slightly more than okay. He turns around and looks at himself from the back, yeah not too bad. He sighs and looks again. Who has he become? He wonders. He actually picked these clothes too. That’s the most amazing part.

Hannibal appears and stands in the doorway. Will doesn’t see him, so Hannibal enjoys the sight of this new Will. He is wearing a new suit. He is wearing a suit. That alone is a cause for some celebration. Since they have been living together, Will has been slowly becoming more accustomed to the finer things in life. He is eating better, wearing better clothes, he exercises and takes good care of himself. Hannibal is enjoying the results. He tries to be subtle when he looks at Will but lately, he has noticed Will looking back.

Hannibal coughs and Will turns around. “I didn’t see you! How long have you been standing there?”

With a smile, Hannibal straightens himself up from leaning against the door frame and walks into what is Will’s room to stand behind him and look at Will’s reflection. Hannibal gently brushes the shoulders of the jacket with his hands, and Will stiffens slightly, straightening up. “It looks good,” Hannibal says and stands back a little to admire him.

“Thanks,” Will says awkwardly, aware of Hannibal’s gaze roaming up and down his body. “I wanted to look good for this evening.”

They are going out for the first time since they arrived in Cuba. They have been holed up in their house healing. Also hiding, Hannibal thinks. Hannibal is a social butterfly, and as much as he enjoys Will’s company, he also wants to go out with Will. After much cajoling, Hannibal convinced Will to go to a local restaurant where they have a special dinner and dancing. It will be good for them to get out of the house, to blend in. Although looking as good as Will does in that suit, Hannibal is not sure how much blending in he will do. He smirks at the thought.

“What?” Will says seeing the smirk flitter across his face.

“Well, we are supposed to be blending in.” Hannibal moves, standing close behind Will so he can whisper directly into his ear. Will doesn’t stop him watches his reflection in the mirror, “you look handsome.”

“In that case, no one will recognise me!” Will says nervously not use to Hannibal being this close, not since all their injuries healed.

Hannibal laughs and so gently that Will is at first sure he imagined it, licks his earlobe. Then arms encircle Will’s waist, and Hannibal leans his head on Will’s shoulder, their bodies flush together. “I would always recognise you.”

Will closes his eyes and enjoys the embrace, the feeling of being this close to the one person who understands him. Hannibal is watching him, his gaze measured and calm with a spark of something else. Will opens his eyes and turns around in Hannibal’s arms. He lifts his hand to brush the hair from Hannibal’s face, greying silver strands that have gotten longer and are surprisingly soft. Hannibal smiles and then as if they had done it a thousand times before Will leans in places his lips against Hannibal’s and kisses him. 

They stand in an embrace. The kiss is languid, slow and unhurried as if they have all the time in the world. Will realises they do, they are both transformed, changed, but always recognisable to each other. 


	19. Voodoo Doll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt 'Voodoo Doll'.

#  Voodoo Doll

“This voodoo killer is bringing up memories of New Orleans,” Will says as he sips the thick slightly sweet red wine Hannibal gave him. Sat in his usual black chair opposite Hannibal who sits in the matching one. Will is sure they are closer together, but he can’t be sure.

“That is understandable. Not all your memories of New Orleans are negative, though? It is an interesting place.”

“Have you ever been?” Will asks suddenly curious as to whether they have walked the same streets or breathed the same air. He imagines Hannibal in an immaculate cream linen suit and smiles.

“Once, many years ago, and only for a few days. The atmosphere is unique. History and exuberance in the air.”

Will laughs “yeah as well as piss, sweat and tears.” He remembers the air being thick, here it’s thinner and cold, much easier to breathe.

“You don’t miss it.”

Will almost immediately answers ‘no’. But as with all of Hannibal’s questions, he considers before responding. “Sometimes.” It was always too hot for him there, but Hannibal is right the history of the place made it feel different to anywhere else. It often did feel a little magic, dark and chaotic, and part of him will always be drawn to that. “The history as you say and the atmosphere was unique.”

“It is possible to miss something but never want it back.”

Will smiles at that and nods. He sips the wine again, feeling that liquid velvet as it easily slips down his throat. He starts to think about this room and the atmosphere of it. There is magic here too. A growing comfort that is inexplicable but also inevitable.

Hannibal is looking at the far-away expression on Will’s face with curiosity. Will notices this and shakes his head in apology “sorry I was miles away.”

“What were you thinking about?”

Will is not sure how to put it into words. The feeling of comfort, understanding and almost love he feels in this room. How the magic here feels dark but comfortingly so. How when he looked at the bodies of the so-called voodoo killer, with the arcane references to black magic, blood and sacrifice, he felt nothing. As if they were an imitation, a pretender. Here in this room, he can feel the truth of potential power. How it should scare him, but it doesn’t. How he feels a thrill just being here, feeling this current as it buzzes and flows between them. It excites him.

So Will settles for one word, a word that is heavy with power, history and potential.

“Magic.”


	20. Windswept

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt 'Windswept'.

#  Windswept

Will is with Hannibal as they walk to the crime scene. It’s a trek through trees to an open field. The wind whistles as the leaves rustle. It’s pleasant despite the wind. When they finally get to the field, the wind is much stronger, and Will feels like he might topple over. He looks at Hannibal standing there with his perfect posture, his hair swept back, and his cheeks are slightly ruddy from the walk and the wind.

He looks beautiful.

He is a windswept statue of perfection.

Will feels like a small messy boy next to him. He sighs and tries to push his hair out of his eyes. He really needs a haircut. He focuses on the scene; several dead bodies of young women arranged in a perfect circle their long hair spread out behind them. They look like a sun. Will closes his eyes and lets the pendulum swing to see inside the mind of a killer.

Hannibal is watching Will, imagining what he is seeing. He wishes he could step inside Will’s mind and see what he sees. Instead, he is left on the outside, observing Will find the answers very few can. Hannibal looks at Will as the wind tousles his hair, cheeks and ears tinted red from the wind, his perfect lips pursed in concentration.

He looks beautiful.

He looks like a perfect windswept creation of the gods.

Will opens his eyes and realises Hannibal is staring at him with a smile on his face.

“What is it?” Will asks feeling that insecurity in his appearance rising again.

“I just don’t think I will ever get tired of watching you do that.”

Will smiles genuinely and laughs. “I’m just standing here.”

Hannibal muses and then speaks “I can feel you thinking though it’s as if I can feel your mind reaching out. It’s beautiful. You are beautiful.”

Will looks at Hannibal incredulously and laughs. “I certainly do not feel that way but thank you.”

Hannibal fixes him with a serious look and takes a step closer. “Oh, but you are.”


	21. Werewolves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt 'Werewolves'.

#  Werewolves

“What on earth are you watching?” Hannibal says, and Will jumps out of his skin.

“Jesus Hannibal! You know you don’t have to stealth mode around the house.” Will says and pauses the film he is watching as Hannibal walks around to join him on the sofa.

“Stealth mode?” Hannibal says as he sits down next to Will, who is now taking a large swig of beer. Hannibal looks on in mild disgust as it’s shop bought beer he hasn’t had time to make his own.

Will finishes his overly long swig “would you prefer murder mode?”

Hannibal laughs, and Will smiles triumphantly. Always feeling an odd sense of accomplishment whenever he gets Hannibal to laugh. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“An American werewolf in Paris. A classic.”

Hannibal takes in the ropey image of what looks like some kind of monster on the screen, and a suitable look of disbelief comes across his face. “Why are you watching this?”

“I couldn’t sleep, and I told you it’s a classic.” Will pauses and takes in sleep mussed Hannibal, swallowing he decides he needs more beer and takes another large swig. “Would you like to join me?”

Hannibal looks at Will and smiles “of course.”

Will grins and presses play. Hannibal sits back on the sofa. Long legs stretched in front of him elegant feet resting on the coffee table. Will suddenly cannot concentrate on the film but is utterly distracted by the site of Hannibal’s bare feet.

He knows he must have seen Hannibal’s feet, after the fall and healing they have seen most of each other’s bodies. However, seeing his bare feet so casually resting on the coffee table poking out from his expensive silk pyjama trousers is different. It’s strangely intimate. Domestic. Will thinks.

They have been living together for months, happy in each other’s company, a strange bubble between them, a feeling of rebirth and fresh beginnings. Will is relaxed maybe for the first time in his life. Hannibal wears his emotions more openly. Will has felt a pull towards him but hadn’t acknowledged it until this moment.

The film ends. Hannibal tilts his head to look at Will, who is looking back at him. “Do you want to talk about why you can’t sleep?” Hannibal says voice soft and Will wants to bathe in it.

“No.” Will answers and Hannibal raises an eyebrow in question. “I know why.”

“Why?” Hannibal enquires.

Will smiles and puts the beer bottle down on a coaster on the table. Hannibal watches every movement but doesn’t move. “Because,” Will says “I miss you. I slept better when we were in the same bed. I get lonely.”

Will watches the myriad of emotions flicker across Hannibal’s face. “It was a necessity before. We have two bedrooms now.” Hannibal states. Will knows this. The small cabin on the boat which only had one bed, the healing wounds and the need to make sure the other was still breathing are the necessity Hannibal is referring to.

“It was more than that,” Will says because for him it was. That need, that feeling of satiating the hunger of a starving man, at being so close again after being so far apart. Of finally being in the same place at the same time.

“Yes,” Hannibal says evenly, but his tone still sounds like liquid velvet. “You want to share a bed again?”

“Yes,” Will says this and hears how breathless he sounds and blushes slightly. “Do you?”

Hannibal smiles and removes his feet from the coffee table. Will misses them. Standing up, Hannibal offers his hand to Will who takes it and is then pulled up by Hannibal, so they are standing flush together. “Of course.” Hannibal states.

Hannibal then leads Will by the hand to his bedroom. They don’t speak as Will watches Hannibal remove the t-shirt he is wearing so he’s just in the pyjama trousers and gets into bed. Will removes all his clothes except his boxers and slides into the bed next to Hannibal facing him.

They are not touching, but they are very close, and Will wishes Hannibal would slide those beautiful feet between his legs. They lie in the dark, looking at each other for a few moments until Will can’t take it a moment longer. He moves his hand to Hannibal’s shoulder and gently pushes him flat against the mattress. Will covers Hannibal’s body with his own bracing himself on his elbows by Hannibal’s head. Will leans down and presses his lips against Hannibal’s and kisses him. Will can feel the moment Hannibal lets go just before he wraps his legs around Will’s waist brings his arms around Will’s neck and very quickly and powerfully flips them so Will is beneath him.

“Hey!” Will cries and laughs.

Hannibal then begins kissing and caressing his way down Will’s body like the starving men they have both been. Will finds all thoughts other than  _ god why haven’t we done this before _ get lost under Hannibal’s ministrations.


End file.
